


"Molten Igneous Rock" + "Koala Carry"

by TANGOCHARLIE



Series: The Carries [3]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), Hurt/Comfort, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 06:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21231233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TANGOCHARLIE/pseuds/TANGOCHARLIE
Summary: A slightly more lighthearted moment where Jack carries Mac.





	"Molten Igneous Rock" + "Koala Carry"

**Author's Note:**

> A challenge was issued, could we come up with a plausible scenario where Mac is wrapped around Jack, being carried like a "koala?" Let us know what you think!
> 
> Thank you lovely MacGyver people for your support of these stories! We hope to bring more to you soon!

It's always the easy missions that go bad. The missions that should be surveillance, a quick in and out. Or a grab job, a black hood and a waiting helicopter. The ones that should be no mess, no fuss.

This wasn't even really a mission.

They weren't even on comms.

A favor for an old contact of Matty's. A wellness check on Dr. Kaplan, a retired chemist, in the middle of nowhere, with too many secrets in his brain and too much time on his hands to be left alone on his own for too long.

And a home built lab that made Mac drool.

"Seriously, Matty, I think his tongue is hanging out of his mouth. I don't know if you're gonna convince him to come back home. I'm probably spending any and all of my upcoming vacation time in these woods so Mac can get his geek on. More on. At least there's a lake nearby," Jack said when he reported in. "Maybe Mac can supe up the good doctor's canoe and I can get some water skiing in."

She rolled her eyes listening to Jack, the fondness in his voice belying the gruff complaints about his hamburger nerd's tendency to get wrapped up in his brain.  


Matilda Webber has seen it all. Years as a field agent and handler have prepared her for the role of Operations Director. She sends her agents into the world and is left waiting on the other side of comms for the moment when things go wrong. Though she complained about Mac's improvising when they met, a lot of what she does falls under that umbrella. Because things do go wrong, despite plans and contingencies and preparation.  


It seems for Team Improv things go wrong in more ways than she ever dreamed possible. Of course, they accomplish things that other teams and other agencies can only dream of in their wildest imaginations. They're a statistical outlier.  


She called them lucky at first, and flinches in shame at the memory of the hurt look on Mac's face when she says it. Because it's not luck. No one is that lucky. They are just that good. Blending together in a cohesive unit that complements each other's strengths and supports their weaknesses.

They are the team of last resort, pulling off insane miracles and improvised Hail Mary's.

It means they return home in various states from bedraggled and belligerent to broken and bleeding out.

She doesn't want to say she has a favorite team, but she has a favorite team.

They defy the odds again and again, so they deserve a mission where they can relax and let their guard down. She might not be able to give them time off, but she can send them on a milk run; fresh air, nature, a chance to rest and rejuvenate.

Mac's nose is sunburned in the team photo Jack sends as a status update. 

Matty's phone buzzes. She’s expecting another selfie from Jack soon; he was trying to convince Riley to go fishing with him. Or a photo of Bozer sleeping in a hammock with Jack hamming it up in the foreground. She gives the screen a puzzled frown when Bozer's name pops up on the caller ID. A small smile as she considers what kind of trouble her boys got themselves into now. Maybe Jack capsized their host's fishing boat and now he wants compensation from the Phoenix since she sent them in to disturb his otherwise quiet life.

She'll enjoy hearing the explanation.

Jack must have convinced Bozer to call her. Riley and Mac probably refused him, teasing him that he's on his own with her. 

She allows a smile for a second longer, then answers.

The line is hissing and crackling. A burst of static makes her pull the phone from her ear with a wince.

There's inarticulate yelling in the background, dread tickles up her spine and makes her hair stands on end. Her finger is poised over an alert button on her tablet that will have the next available TAC team suiting up and heading for her team's last known location.

"Bozer? Answer me," she orders. 

Another burst of static and voices she can't make out.

"Hey, Matty, hey, um," Bozer pants breathlessly into the phone. Despite spy school and now a few years experience of being an agent, he hasn't quite learned how to bury his emotions deeply enough so they don't bleed through into his voice. In a different circumstance it might make her smile that Bozer's never lost his trusting, genuine nature despite the things he's seen.  


It's also the reason that Jack and Mac, if they can help it, don't let Bozer update her with sitreps while they're in the field. He's not very good at lying to her. He can't hide his concern when things go wrong. And things usually go very wrong, at least for a while, until Mac pulls off an eleventh hour miracle, fixing things and saving the day. 

They think they can hide those near disasters from her if they don't let Bozer give reports.

Matty is perceptive, even without needing to use Bozer's lack of poker face. Or poker voice. She can pick up on her agents' thoughts and emotions across comms and halfway around the world. Jack has spent years convinced she is slightly psychic. It makes her a good agent and a fantastic leader. And she is more than willing to use it to her advantage, if she ever suspects Mac, Jack, or even Riley of trying to hide something from her.

"What's going on Bozer?"

"We might have a small prob--" his sentence breaks off with a gasp when a scream echoes across the airwaves.

"Jack! Help! Please!" Mac's voice cracks. She's never heard Mac scream. He's been shot, stabbed, stuck his hands into flames, and never made a peep. The sound of Mac crying out, yelling for Jack cuts through her.

"Hold... hold him..."

"Mac...down, let me..." the line buzzes again. She can only make out every few words, but it's Jack's voice, low and calm. Jack isn't yelling. That's scarier. Because a quiet, collected Jack is worried. And this note in his voice, bleeding through the comms, this is Jack's voice when he's scared.  


"It's burning!" Mac is yelling again.  


"Bozer!" Matty demands a response.

"...atty, Mac... hit... two... don't think it... Jack..."

"Mac was hit? Do you need assistance?" She closes her eyes, focusing on the few words making it through the pop of static.

"No, its..."

The line hums again. She's just about to deploy every TAC team, and medic she has when Jack comes on the line. His voice is deep with a cold fury that sends a shiver up her spine.

"Dr. Kaplan... his research... Medical... have them on standby."

"Do you need an assist?"

"No...situation contained... medical on standby..."

That was two hours ago. Matty has kept tabs on her other teams and other ops, but her mind is with her family, racing home towards the Phoenix. She called Bozer a second time once the team was airborne, the reception only slightly better.

Mac's voice still raised, Jack still murmured, and it did nothing to ease her concerns. As soon as she gets word that they made it to the Phoenix, Matty is out the door, needing to see her team with her own eyes. To assess the damage herself.

Jack strides through the Phoenix corridor, boots clicking, his gait never faltering, which is impressive enough, considering he's got his arms full of his partner. Mac is curled possessively around him, like a koala, arms around Jack's neck, legs wrapped around Jack's waist, resting against his hip with no indication that Mac plans on letting go any time soon.

"What the hell is going on?"

Mac's head snaps up from where it was resting on Jack's shoulder, his hair askew, flopping across his forehead and into his eyes. He's startled, turning to look at Matty then back at Jack with alarm.

"It's alright, buddy, she's immune too," Jack murmurs, gently patting Mac's back, reassuring him.

"Are you sure?" Mac's eyes are wide with concern. And his pupils are pinpricks. Aside from what Matty has to assume is a head injury he looks intact. Torn clothing but no obvious bleeding or bruising. It doesn’t explain why Jack is carrying him.

What she can see of Jack looks intact too. She knows she can't assume that just because he's carrying Mac that he's fine. The man has moved heaven and earth, for his partner. Walked on a broken leg for him, and carried Mac while internally bleeding himself, but nothing about him, his posture or voice, raises any red flags in her mind.

"Yep, absolutely. Checked her file and made sure of it myself."

Mac lets out a heavy sigh. "Good."

"Jack," Matty's tone is warning.

"Matilda."

"Care to inform me why you're carrying your partner around the Phoenix? A new trust exercise?" Now that she's got eyes on her team and her fears are abating she goes with an air of vague annoyance, especially in public where just anyone can see. Can't be accused of favoritism.

"The floor is molten igneous rock!" Mac exclaims, trying to turn in Jack's arms to face Matty.

"Dude, why can't you just say the floor is lava? And quit squirmin' you're gettin' heavy."

Matty raises an eyebrow.

Jack hikes Mac up higher in his arms.

Mac mumbles an apology, his arms sliding back around Jack's neck, and legs tightening around his waist again.

"It turns out that Dr. Kaplan is less retired than we thought. He's been playing around with some new variations of hallucinogens. Hoping that maybe they'll find a loophole and pull him from retirement if he can create something useful."

"He drugged Mac?" Matty asks.

Riley steps forward with a guilty look in Jack's direction. "Not intentionally. He had some modified tranq darts that were primed and loaded."

"Idiot was trying to create some kind of a long range delivery method too," Jack grumbles under his breath. His hand rubs Mac's back comfortingly.  


"Looks like a power surge caused a small fire, which knocked over some chemicals, which created an explosion."

"Which this one," Jack hoists Mac up again. "Had to go investigate. With his accomplice, Riley over there. Didn't even know what they were walking into, but ran in head first."

Mac raises his head, beaming up at Jack, a goofy drugged smile, with his hair sticking up at all angles.  


"Uh-uh," Jack pushes Mac's head back down against his shoulder. "You don't get to just smile at me like that. You know better. You're supposed to wait for backup."

"He pushed me out of the way," Riley said picking up the threads of the story, explaining the guilt written across her face. "Took a double dose of the hallucinogen."

"It's fast acting stuff too. For that alone maybe the CIA should bring him back in," Bozer says, continuing quickly when all eyes, except Mac's, turn toward him. "So no one else gets their hands on it. And so unassuming agents don't walk in there and get drugged to hell."

"And the floor is lava?" Matty asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that one we haven't figured out," Jack answers, with a puzzled expression as he glances between Riley and Bozer. "Maybe because the room was on fire?"

"But you're... immune?"

"Correct," Jack says, patting Mac's back again.

"He jumped into Jack's arms the minute the drug hit his bloodstream and hasn't let go since," Bozer says.

"And I'm immune?" Matty asks.

"Mostly because as funny as it would be to carry you and Mac around, I'd like to keep my job."

"You're smarter than I give you credit for."

"He trusts whatever Jack says," Riley says. "Panicked about me and Bozer, but Jack said we had immunity and just like that he was fine."

"I have to go to medical," Mac interrupts sadly, blue eyes wide and miserable. "Because I'm not immune." He sighs. "And Jack can't carry me forever."

"That's right, bud," Jack praises Mac for remembering their earlier agreement, and feeling rather proud of himself for coming up with a plan to get Mac checked out with the least amount of fuss and resistance from his partner. "I need to make sure that if you ever run across the lava and I'm not there, you can take care of yourself."

"I know," Mac says. "But you're always there when I need you."

Jack's mouth twitches and he looks up towards the corner of the room for a minute. Eyes suddenly moist.

"Apparently, there are a number of women, and a few men between the airport and the War Room who find Mac in an enviable position," Bozer informs Matty, noticing Jack's suddenly overwhelmed emotions. "More than one mention was made of 'wanting to climb Jack like a tree.'"

"It's because Jack is strong." Mac rests his head on Jack's shoulder. His eyes blinking slowly. "He carried me the whole way."

Jack clears his throat. "Alright, bud, off to medical." Jack takes off down the hall. Riley following close behind to help manage Mac and inquisitive Phoenix employees. And if she's honest, to help assuage her guilt.

"Jack," Mac's voice is quiet. "Will it hurt?"

"Nope, they'll just look you over, take some blood. Then you'll take a nice long nap, they might even let you do that at home, and when you wake up, this will all be over."

Mac perks up slightly. "Really?"

"Sure, would I lie to you?"

"No," Mac says seriously. "Never."

"There you go."

Jack stalks into medical, following the waiting nurse back to the exam room. He gently deposits Mac onto the padded exam table. 

"You won't leave me?" Mac asks, arms still around Jack's neck, reluctant to let go. 

"I'll be right here," Jack reassures, gently prying Mac’s strong arms loose, then stepping to the side, keeping a hand on Mac's shoulder. 

The nurse efficiently obtains a sample of blood and checks Mac's vital signs. She helps him shed his shirt, his clumsy fingers more of a hindrance, so she can examine the two puncture wounds on his flank and listen to his lungs.

While Mac is distracted by his checkup and intrigued by the medical equipment surrounding him, Jack turns to Riley who followed them into the exam room.

"You're gonna burn those photos, right Ri?"

"They're digital, Jack."

"Fine, delete, boopity boop them out of existence. He's gonna be embarrassed enough when he comes out of this without photos to remind him."

"Yeah, alright," Riley says in reluctant agreement because Mac's head resting on Jack's shoulder while being carried like a toddler is about the cutest thing she's ever seen. But she does owe Mac that much. Especially since he threw her out of the way, taking the darts himself. 

She hates to think that she might have been the one to glom onto Jack. Wonders what her hallucination would have been.

Jack pauses, looking back at Mac, with his hair sticking up and his eyes impossibly wide, looking at Jack like he's Superman. "Except, maybe, keep one copy for me?"

* * *

There is an aching pulse on his right lower back, stretching from above his hip to under his ribs, causing enough discomfort to wake him from his sleep. He tries to shift onto his left side, and realizes that maybe it wasn't the pain alone that woke him. His stomach rolls with the small movement. He swallows convulsively against the nausea that makes his mouth water. His head is pounding.

Trying not to think too hard, because his brain hurts, he searches his memory for the source of his symptoms. He must have had them when going to sleep because there's a cool cloth across his eyes and forehead. Still wet, so it was replaced recently.

"Go back to sleep, Mac," Jack's voice is close and soft. "It's too early for you to be waking up."

Mac reaches up and pulls the washcloth from his face, hand flopping back to the mattress as the small exertion exhausts him, and squints into the dim light of his bedroom. He frowns from pain and confusion. Whatever happened wasn't bad enough to win himself a stay in medical. 

The bed shifts and Mac frowns harder, whatever happened was bad enough for Jack to stay the night.

"What time is it?" He croaks, raising his head to look over at Jack.

"A little after oh four hundred. Want some water?"

"What happened?" Mac pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache that's already building behind his eyes.

"What do you remember?" Jack reaches out to catch Mac's wrist and count his pulse in a practiced motion.  


Mac's head drops back against the pillow, he swallows again, running his shaky free hand through his hair.

"A volcano?" He grimaces in confusion, knowing he's wrong. That he's pulling a memory from a wild, possibly concussion induced, dream.

Jack shrugs, pulling himself up to sit against the headboard. "Close enough."

Mac's head rolls towards Jack to get a better look at him. "You're lying." The way his head is pounding, doesn't really feel like a concussion.

"You remember Dr. Kaplan?"

"Yeah, the biochemist," Mac says slowly. He frowns, putting the pieces together. That makes sense. This feels more like he was drugged. "His location was nowhere near any active volcanoes."

Jack rubs a hand against the scruff of his beard. "Your brain didn't believe that after you got dosed with some of the hallucinogenic truth serum crap he was cooking up in his meth lab."

Mac raises an eyebrow, then winces.  


"Not so much a whole volcano, more of the floor is molting genius rocks."

"Lava? The floor is lava?"

"Now why wouldn't you just say that before?"

Mac groans, throwing an arm across his eyes.

"You feeling okay, hoss?" Jack's hand cups against his cheek.

"So I got dosed with some unknown substance and climbed up on a table and refused to touch the floor?"

"...Yeah."

Mac whirls to sit up and look at Jack. Taking a moment to breathe through the dizziness the sudden movement brings. "Jack, what did I do?"

"You might have... not trusted the tables in the lab, or the chairs, or basically anything else, because they would get burned up in the lava."

"What did--"

"You might have launched yourself at me, and I spent the next couple of hours carrying you around because I was immune to the lava."

Mac settles back to recline against the headboard in a stunned silence. He frowns as his mind races with the information Jack supplied him and foggy, dream-like memories float through his brain.  


"Look, buddy, it's too early to deal with this. Why don't you go back to sleep for a while. The doctor said you'd probably sleep til late morning, and feel nauseated and headachy most of the day. You got a few more hours to catch up on."

"The floor is lava doesn't even make sense. Not only were we geographically nowhere near a volcano, but the temperature of the air above the lava would be so high that without protective equipment no one would be able to survive breathing it for more than a few seconds."

Jack smiles gently. "Bud, I think we established that your brain wasn't quite firing on all cylinders when I said you thought I was immune to the lava."

Mac shrugs. "No, that would make sense, I needed something safe and my brain supplied you. The science should have shaken me out of that hallucination though."

"Your brain made me a superhero?" Jack's voice cracks.

"Well, yeah," Mac says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I mean, sort of. Despite whatever ridiculousness my brain was dreaming up, it recognized that I was potentially in danger. If I'm ever in danger, I trust you to rescue me."

"Damn, next time you're pissed at me I'm gonna remind you that you think I can walk on water."

"No, I don't."

"If I can walk on lava which is like way more dangerous, then I can probably walk on water too."

"I don't think you're divine, I obviously think you're some sort of mutant."

"Mutant superhero."

"That's not what that hallucination meant."

"I think it is," Jack says, pulling Mac to lay back down and for some much deserved extra sleep.

Mac protests both Jack's claims and the movement.

"No, come on now," Jack shushes. "Don't strain your brain arguing with me. You need a few more hours of sleep before trying to argue Jack-logic."

Mac snorts, as he slides down in the bed, laying his head against the pillow. Heavy eyelids drag closed. Jack smooths blond hair back from Mac's forehead.

"I think I'm gonna miss your hero worship when we finally get you all straightened out. It sure was easier to get you to cooperate." He watches Mac's breathing even out, then reaches over to the nightstand and picks up his phone, opening the file Riley sent over. He's gonna need to make sure she's backed it up somewhere else that he can get at it. Because inevitably, Mac's going to take apart his phone in the near future, and he never wants to lose this photo.

  
  
  



End file.
